Aristocracy
by Le Sang-Froid
Summary: The aristocratic lives of the high-society, privileged Purebloods has never been told. Purebloods aren't all that bad, are they?   Read and Review, please. AU. And this story's in the process of being renovated.
1. Prologue

Aristocracy

Prologue

Life, in an aristocrat's shoes, is on a completely different spectrum to that of the lower ranking classes. Everything depends on one's social rank; a rank which is based upon how well one dresses and decorates one's home, how well one presents oneself amongst the court, and, most importantly of all, how old one's bloodline is. Life, as a noble, is like a teetering plank. One often finds oneself half-way inside the window and half-way out. In one moment, one may be standing in the good graces of the Minister. In the next, one may be at the bottom of the social ladder with one's shame exposed for all to see. Life, as a lord, is unpredictable. Life, as a lady, is frightening. Life, as an aristocrat, is the ultimate task of the elite.

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><p>AN: So this is my new project. I'm utterly fascinated by the nobility of France and England, so of course I'd have to write an Harry Potter story on it! To me, and this is probably going to aggravate some people, Harry Potter's social rankings, as a world, contain so much raw matieral to work with! I mean, seriously, people. Castes have already been formed, tasks and other things, but the life of the nobility's never actually shown a face in the books, have they? Therefore, my goal is to give the nobility of these books a voice. NO COPYWRITE! That's my disclaimer. And special thanks to Blackened Wasteland for being so helpful and editing this all by themselves just for the sake of the story.

Avec l'amour,

Le Sang-Froid


	2. Genesis

Genesis

_**Le Sang-Froid**_

It was her wedding day. Somewhere near the second floor of 12 Grimmauld Place, Narcissa Black - soon to be Malfoy - was affectionately having her already perfect hair stroked by her sister, when her mother's voice came bursting through the doors.

"Narcissa! Narcissa!" Her mother called, "we have to Apparate now! They're expecting you to be at Malfoy Manor to be _**adorned **_any moment," Druella pleaded, awaiting her most beautiful daughter's appearance. She could be such a difficult girl sometimes. Hmph, Narcissa was difficult almost _**all **_the time.

Meanwhile, Bellatrix continued stroking her lovely sister's platinum locks. "You know, Cissy," Bellatrix said, "being married isn't all pins and needles. Sure, I utterly despise Rodolphus," her sister paused as Narcissa slightly smiled, "but there are advantages to being high-society Purebloods. Especially whenever you're in an _**arranged**_ high-society Pureblood marriage."

"How can you be so sure, so confident about something that's completely chance?" Narcissa questioned, her interest piqued. "Well, there is no way of being _**exactly **_confident," Bellatrix quickly replied, pinning Narcissa's hair up into an intricate hairstyle. "But, over time you two will connect, albeit strange in the long run. One more thing, though, before Mother devours us," Narcissa's sister mentioned, "never, **never **be the first to give into his wiles. And by wiles, I mean charms. He's a Malfoy; therefore, he's arrogant. Use his talents and his weaknesses against him and you'll surely have the perfect husband," advised Bellatrix as she finished the final touches to Narcissa's hair. "Honest?" Narcissa inquired, face full of innocence. "Completely," replied Bellatrix, "completely."

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><p>However, outside the heavy wooden door that lead to Narcissa's quarters, Druella patiently listened to the sisters' conversation. Even though she had a meticulous routine to follow, being set by the current Lady Malfoy, Druella allowed this moment of compassion to endure for a few moment's time.<p>

Druella loved her daughters, all three, although Andromeda had decided to take a slightly different pathway. But anyway, today wasn't to be based on her eldest daughter's choices, nor Bellatrix's. It was Narcissa's day. Deep down, though, it pained Druella to condemn her youngest daughter to first, a forced betrothal, and, second, an arranged marriage. Now with Bellatrix, well, Bellatrix knew how to handle a man. Bellatrix knew how to handle **everything**.

Nevertheless, Druella was obliged to intrude on the two girls. No, they were women now as much as it pained her to think so.

"Ladies," their mother interrupted, "we must arrive at Malfoy Manor any moment. They've all been waiting your appearance, Narcissa," Druella said, hands clasped together. Waving her arm out towards the door, Narcissa grudgingly complied at her mother's expense, trudging out into the corridor and down into the kitchen.

Upon entering the rather large kitchen, Bellatrix ran her hand down the wooden table, heavily lidded eyes closed beneath her make-up. What? Even the aristocratic Purebloods used make-up.

"So, Cissy," Bellatrix began, "are you ready?" her voice dangerously low. Consequently, Narcissa vehemently shook her head. No, no, she wasn't at all ready. If anything, all she wanted to do was crawl back up the stairs and become a little girl again.

It was like Bellatrix and Druella both read her mind.

"No way!" Druella shouted. "No way are you reverting back to some shy, backwards teenager. You're a Black. Hold your head up high." A bond like this, a bond to the Malfoy family would strengthen the Black's already able ties with the Ministry. A bond of this proportion would save the family name, lest there be any worry over an heir.

Drawing her daughters together, Druella clasped hands with them and within moments they had Apparated into Malfoy Manor.

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><p>AN: So leave me reviews on how I did with this one. I want to keep this sort of in the tense, unhappy stages of life. Works of fiction with just happiness around every corner makes me sick. Therefore, expect some seriously depressing things to happen here.

Avec l'amour,

Le Sang-Froid


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